Darkness, My Old Friend
by Soprano Orchid
Summary: Severus Snape finds himself struggling against the Marauders, himself, and...various other things! Rated for language, possible sexual content involving SSOC. I really am truly horrid at summaries, and I apologize for that. Please RR
1. A Surprising Visitor

Obligitory and Traditional Disclaimer: We all know that JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, Warner Bros owns the movies, and Spock owns Kirk. I think I just crossed fandoms, sorry about that. I promise that it won't happen again. All that I own is the story line, and everything that you don't recognize, including Anne.  
  
Author's Note: This story begins in the final weeks of term for Severus Snape and the Marauders' seventh year at Hogwarts. It will be several things, including the following: fluffy, angsty, OOC, romantic, dramatic, humourous, and just plain drivel. But isn't that what fanfiction is all about? Will perhaps contain sexual content, perhaps not. However, I am rating it for that contingency and also for language, because I have a filthy mouth and mind.  
Some things will appear unexplained for a while, but it's my intention to fill them in at a different part of the story, so don't let that throw you off.  
If you're interested in my other work, which is Phantom Of the Opera-related, my old pen-name was George Esmerelda.  
Now on with the fic!  
....

Severus extinguished the light at the tip of his wand and crept as quietly as he could down the corridor. Black had almost seen him that time, and that would have been disastrous. If that group of miscreant Gryffindors ever found his secret room...he realized that he was gripping his wand tightly and sternly commanded himself to calm down as he put it in the pocket of his robe.  
  
"_Just three more weeks, Severus_," He thought grimly. "_Just three more weeks and you'll never see them again...or at any rate they won't see you_." The wicked smile that curved his thin lips would have sent chills through the spine of an observer, but as there were none in this deserted section of the castle, his expression went unnoticed.  
  
He was on his way to a room that he'd discovered late in his second year at Hogwarts and had quickly adopted as his own. It had perhaps been a common room of sorts at one time, but had become abandoned and forgotten...the perfect place for a troubled student to sequester himself in.  
  
He was still anticipating revenge when he arrived at the door to his secret room. In fact, Severus was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't register that the heavy wooden door was slightly ajar and that there was faint light issuing from the crack. His thoughts had conjured a triumphant fantasy and he was smiling widely.  
  
He pushed open the door and froze in place, horror flooding his mind at the sight that met his eyes.  
  
A girl looked back at him, equally horrified. He didn't even look at her face, but let his eyes rest on the first thing they had seen. She was holding something in her hand. Severus struggled to get his perceptions back under control. Yes, she was holding something in her hand. A parchment.  
  
A drawing.  
  
His drawing. Who did this bitch think she was?  
  
"Severus, I--" the girl faltered and trailed off as his expression changed from surprise to puzzlement to blackly murderous rage. He hadn't even looked away from what she held in her trembling hand.  
  
"You." he growled. "So you thought you'd poke around where you weren't wanted, did you? Thought you'd see what you could find?" Suddenly his wand was in his hand. "As my privacy means nothing to you, your life means even less to me. Filthy cu-" he stopped speaking suddenly. While speaking, he had been slowly raising his gaze to the face of the tresspasser, fully expecting it to be Lily Evans or one of her little friends.  
  
Who he saw instead gave him his second nearly-paralytic shock of the evening.  
  
"Anne...?" He desperately wanted to disbelieve. Surely this was a dream, perhaps a hallucination brought on by any one of the various herbs he'd been perusing in the afternoon.  
  
No. There was no mistaking this. That lustrous auburn hair, those cloudy grey eyes, those full lips that had so often sweetened his dreams. Anne? The young woman whom he adored from afar, whose name he sometimes whispered in the dark to no one but the still night air?  
  
Severus was at a complete loss. What little color there was to be found in his pallid face had simply melted away like so much bathwater down an efficient drain. He shook his head and a lock of hair that he did not bother to brush away fell across his eyes. He simply looked at the ground.  
  
"Anne, why?" he finally whispered. His anger was gone, replaced with burning humiliation and unbelieving hurt.  
  
Anne also was rather speechless. She had harbored the hope for some months now that this cold and aloof...she had started to think of him as the caricature everyone else saw, but looking at him in the semi-gloom of a single torch with this heart-wrenching pain in his eyes, she saw him for what he was–a desperately lonely soul who had endured too much hurt in his short life to ever trust his true self to the condemning of petty classmates. She had harbored the hope that he may have had interest in her, however fleeting. And so she had found the place where he spent so much time. Everyone in Slytherin house knew that he went somewhere, but no one much cared to look. His absences from the common room in the evenings and on weekends went largely unremarked by all save for Anne, who had once seen him smiling to himself at some secret thought and thenceforth was unable to see him in quite the same ill-favored light.  
  
An eternity seemed to pass. Neither of them knew what too say, and neither found themselves willing to try sparking a conversation. Finally Anne spoke up. She faltered at first, but as Severus maintained his silence she grew nervous and spoke more than she would have.  
  
"I... I didn't mean to pry. Really, I didn't. You have a right to be angry, but please, please believe that I never wanted to hurt you."  
  
He didn't respond.  
  
"I don't know what I was thinking. I- well, I just wanted to know where you go all the time. I hoped I might find you here," she licked her lips nervously when he shot an inscrutable look at her, but continued, "because I, um, well, what I mean is that I..."  
  
She turned away, cheeks burning. As if through a fog she heard herself saying it to him, a stumbling and awkward version of the eloquent speeches she'd treasured to herself, "I think I like you, Severus. I mean, well, not like, but you know. More. I mean..oh, shit."  
  
Anne crossed the room to sit on the beaten maroon sofa that reposed in front of the cold hearth. She was fighting back tears. She thought about the many ways she'd dreamed this moment, and wondered what she had been thinking, coming here. Not only had she obviously upset Severus, but now he probably thought she was a complete twit. A sob escaped her throat.  
  
Mortified, she choked out, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I don't know why I came here. I shouldn't have. I had no reason to even think you would want to hear this. God, I'm sorry."  
  
The tears wouldn't stop coming now. She pressed her cheek against the sofa's back. A button poked at her temple, but she didn't care. She couldn't stop crying, couldn't pull herself together and save face, make a graceful exit.  
  
Severus sat down next to her, gingerly on the edge of the cushion. "Anne-"  
  
She covered her mouth with a hand and shook her head.  
  
He touched her arm gently with the tip of one finger and she turned her tear-dampened face to him. He looked into her eyes a moment and was struck by the way her wet lashes clung together and shone the darkest of blacks. He felt the temptation to touch the glistening tear track on her cheek and smiled ruefully at her.  
  
"You think I wouldn't want to hear it?" he paused, "You didn't even look at this, did you?" He tapped her hand, which was still clutching the drawing he'd seen her with when he entered the room. She looked at it dully, without comprehension.  
  
He took it from her hand and unfolded it, smoothing out the wrinkles her agitated hand had inflicted upon the fragile material.  
  
Anne gasped, "It's me!"  
  
And indeed it was. Drawn with skill and meticulous care to detail was a charcoal portrait that smiled a small, secret smile not unlike the Mona Lisa. Anne touched it in wonder. Her finger trailed down the sheet and touched upon the artist's signature, which read "S. Snape". The wandering finger underlined it in a motion that was almost a caress and Severus stood, still holding the parchment. It was his turn now for embarrassment.  
  
In a daze, Anne stood up after him. She needed to see his eyes.  
  
Severus was looking fixedly into the empty hearth, more afraid than he'd ever been in his life. Never before had he felt quite so exposed, so at the mercy of another human being. He felt a feather-light touch to his shoulder and turned, half expecting to be slapped, half expecting to be laughed at.  
  
At the look she was met with, Anne could have cried again. Such naked feeling was almost too much for her to bear, and her only thought was to take away his pain.  
  
Severus looked at her, knowing that the old saying was more apt than he'd suspected- his very heart seemed on his sleeve, and he was almost ready to hand it to Anne if only she would ask.  
  
She reached up and touched his cheek.  
  
He didn't know what to do. "What are you doing?" his mind screamed to her, and his face had the expression of a terrified animal, perhaps an unwitting field-mouse being slowly tormented by a cat.  
  
Oh, but those fingers were so incomparably soft and warm to his cool skin. Severus swallowed nervously.  
  
_This is not the way the night was supposed to go_. He had planned to evade Potter and Co., then spend the rest of the night until curfew studying the new book of hexes he'd lifted from the banned section of the library. Then, slink back to the common room and go to bed, rise early in the morning to practise said hexes for use against the aforementioned troupe of idiots.  
  
Instead...this. He wasn't even sure what was happening. It was a clear break from the usual comforting monotony of planning revenge and daydreaming about a certain girl...  
  
Who just happened to be here now peering into his eyes.  
  
The silence was almost overwhelming. Abruptly and perhaps of their own volition, her hands were touching him, just feeling the beat of his heart beneath the rough, cheap fabric of his cloak.  
  
Severus watched her in disbelief. Oh, beautiful Anne, are those your delicate fingers? His breathing quickened and he had the oddest feeling of wanting to cry, but with supreme joy. Boldly, but just as unconsciously as Anne herself had found herself touching him, Severus played with a silky lock of her dark hair.  
  
The candlelight flickered. Dancing shadows flirted with their pale faces, figures tensely wondering. The tears on Anne's face glistened like crystal everywhere the light touched.  
  
The hair abandoned, Severus reached with trembling fingers to wipe away these shining tears. The tears were cooler than her deliciously warm face, he noticed. Anne closed her eyes and made a soft noise with slightly parted lips.  
  
Severus drew away, surprised. This was real and irreversible, this whole occurrence. This was not another fantasy. Dare he let down all the protective shields that kept him from further pain? It would be so easy to do what was forbidden to him except within dreams, but it would be just as easy for her to betray his trust later on.  
  
Anne felt him draw away and opened her eyes to see his face, stricken and unsure. She could only guess what was in his mind but couldn't bear to have him look this way.  
  
"I don't intend to hurt you," she murmured and stepped closer to him. He was taller than her, too tall for what she was intending, so she reached up to cup the back of his neck and pull his face close. He resisted at first- a token resistance, but before she could pull away he yielded to her guiding hand. Anne realised that he wasn't really sure of what she was going to do, but was trusting her. Because he wanted to.  
  
Severus was dimly terrified, his heart pounding and the blood rushing madly in his ears. What was she...? Suddenly she was kissing him tenderly. So blinding was this moment in its perfection. Not knowing what to do, he began to kiss her back, savoring her soft lips. Surely this was bliss, but even so it was not enough. He drew her closer, hand on her waist. The kiss abruptly deepened as her lips parted his own and her tongue gently tickled him.  
  
Now it was his turn to make a sound and when she drew away for breath she giggled softly. She took his hand and sat back onthe couch, their thighs touching. He leaned in to her until their foreheads met.  
  
"Oh, Annie," he whispered, "is this happening?"  
  
Her lips moved to his neck and she replied so softly the words were almost lost against his skin.  
  
"Do you want it to be?"  
  
Anne slipped her hand under his cloak, where her fingers stroked the soft fabric of the school uniform he wore.  
  
Severus pulled away nervously.  
  
"I...I have..." he faltered and stood, "I've got homework to do."  
  
Anne simply stared at him, stunned and hurt. Her hand was still in the same place where she had been fondling him, but now it met only with air. She slowly lowered it, her hand curling into a loose fist that she pressed to her side as if she wanted to hide it.  
  
Severus seemed about to speak but he shook his head in panic and nearly flew across the room and out the door, his cloak in a swirl behind like a great black bat.  
  
Anne was left alone, with nothing to do but cry. 

"_Idiot, bloody idiot_," Severus chanted under his breath some time later.  
  
He was sequestered safely in his bed with the heavy green velvet curtains drawn safely around it. He leaned against the headboard with knees drawn to his chin, in much the same posture he had retained for the last hour.  
  
He had been running over the events of the day in his mind and had become more ashamed of his actions every time he thought of leaving her. Leaving Anne when she had come looking for him.  
  
"_How dare she_?" he thought, trying to recapture the rage that had consumed him earlier.  
  
Unfortunately, this effort was useless. He'd wanted her for far too long, wanted those shapely legs and those delicate hands.  
  
Severus felt his body's reaction to this train of thought and did find himself angry again, but this time not at Anne. He scowled in the dark, determined to ignore the part of his anatomy that demanded attention.  
  
He left the Slytherin dorms with the intention to walk the grounds until his chaotic thoughts slowed acceptably, but found himself instead pacing uselessly back and forth across an unused classroom's dusty stone floor.  
  
"_You are a fool, Severus Snape_," the young wizard berated himself. "_You fantasize about her for months, and then when you have the chance to really do something about it, you fucking leave. What a coward."_  
  
He stopped pacing, stricken by a sudden thought, this time for the girl instead of himself. What he had realized so belatedly was that she had feelings of her own, and when he ran out of the room like that...  
  
Severus closed his eyes a moment. When he opened them he was ready to go find Anne, and ready to apologize.

A.N.: Well, what do you think? This is my first attempt at an HP fic in a long time, and I'm just getting back in the swing of things. Remember that Snape may appear slightly OOC here, but that is due in part to his young age. I'm of the mind that he wasn't always so...severe, if I may use the word, but came to be that way due to events in his life that took place later. That I may discuss, if people R/R. :D 


	2. So, Now What?

Disclaimer: Same as usual.  
  
Chapter Two: So, now what?

Anne was tired of crying, and tired of feeling sorry for herself. So he was frightened away. That wasn't necessarily because of her, was it? Maybe he was just shy around girls. Really shy.  
  
She punched a pillow angrily. "I am NOT ugly!" she growled at the pillow, wishing it bore the face of a certain pale, thin Slytherin. "How dare you leave on me!" She punched it again, "bloody Squib-licker."  
  
Anne finally tired of this endearing little game and stood up. If Snape didn't want her, fine. Maybe that Lupin kid had better sense. He wasn't bad looking, and besides, he looked pretty desperate. Those friends of his were real degenerates, but they always had their own little girly entourages following them around. She'd give help where it was really needed and maybe assist Remus Lupin in polishing the old wand.  
  
She wanted to believe that her heart was really in these lustful plans, but really she knew she only wanted to hurt Severus. Anne's pride was hurt, and she didn't want to let him get away with that, but she knew she would. Brewing Lupin's potion wouldn't change anything, and Anne was aware of that.  
  
But oh, how she wanted Snape. Everything about him enchanted her and she revelled in her infatuation. Where she had been originally drawn to his mystery and lonely status, now she was physically enraptured too, and it was stronger than she'd ever imagined.  
  
With a pang, she realized she'd lived seventeen long years and never had a boyfriend, never kissed anyone except for quick pecks underneath the mistletoe at Christmas...until now, of course. And though she was inexperienced, she was still a normal teenager and she ached for Severus Snape with all of her awareness. She thought she could love him very easily and oh, how she wanted to show it.  
  
"Just- give me a chance." Anne pleaded to the empty room.  
  
And serendipitously, somehow Anne's plea was answered as the door swung surprisingly open on her for the second time in a day. Severus stood framed in the doorway for a moment, just long enough for Anne to take in his long hair (conveniently glossing over the oiliness), slender frame (some would say gaunt), and long, thin fingers that were graceful and agile (though rather a bit skeletal). Then he shut the door, as always cautious about wandering Gryffindors.  
  
"I'm sorry I left," he said stiffly, "I- well, I shouldn't have done that."  
  
"Its all right," Anne replied quickly, "really. I mean, I did come on way too strong. I'm really sorry."  
  
"No, it was me. Really. Not about you. Just...other things. I'm sorry."  
  
They looked at each other awkwardly for a few seconds that seemed to both to last an eternity. Then Anne started grinning, which soon metamorphosed into helpless giggles.  
  
Severus looked at her, vaguely hurt. What the hell– ?  
  
"I...I...I'm sorry!" she gasped, still giggling. "We're a very sorry pair, you and I."  
  
He snorted and attempted to roll his eyes disdainfully, but Anne was not fooled.  
  
"Oh, come on," she teased, "you know you love my pathetic puns."  
  
"I love everything about you," Severus said without thinking.  
  
Anne stopped short and simply looked at him.

A/n: This is a short chapter, I'm sorry about that. I'll make the next one longer if I get reviews...even flames. Bring 'em on, I've got cookies to bake.  
Hooray for fluff. The next chapter may be entirely different, but there's only one way to find out, yes? 


	3. Chatting it up

Severus was feeling decidedly light-headed. "Why did I say that?" he wondered.

He looked down and found himself examining the stone floor very closely in an effort to stay focused on anything at all. He was just thinking about how extraordinarily clean it was when it suddenly became darker. His eyebrows knitted closely together as he contemplated this strange phenomenon while overlooking the obvious- Anne tapped him on the shoulder and he nearly gasped in surprise.

"Severus, I don't know why you think this about me," Anne said softly, "but I don't want to, either."

She looked at him, soaking in the sight. His eyes were the black found at the deepest reaches of the ocean- cold, but so full of life. His prominent nose cast shadows that twitched over the left side of his face with the flickering candlelight. Anne took a deep, shaky breath.

"I guess we have some catching up to do."

* * *

They had talked for hours. It was deep into the night, but neither cared, and as it was Friday the late hour didn't matter, either.

Once Severus got over his initial recalcitrance, Anne was shocked to discover how many similar interests they shared. A significant portion of the time had been passed debating the merits of German singing technique over Italian, which culminated in a brief episode of rival breathing exercises. When Anne realized that they were, in effect, panting at each other she simultaneously blushed and giggled, which drew a raised eyebrow and a change of subject from Snape.

Suddenly shy, Anne looked away from his face and touched a tentative hand to his. When he took it she looked back up and smiled. Severus trailed off in the middle of his sentence (Anne thought dimly that it had been something about Mozart) and looked at her. Intensely.

Anne's heart seemed to skip a beat. She was suddenly flushed and feeling rather odd. Her breathing quickened as she matched his gaze, and she started to open her mouth to say something- anything to keep herself from making another spectacle.

Much to her embarrassment, she yawned. The corner of Severus's mouth twitched as he tried to conceal his amusement.

"I don't entirely agree, but I'm sure that the composer, being dead, won't take offense," he commented dryly.

Anne blinked in surprise and stared blankly at his pale face for a moment, then broke into a slow grin.

"Its so...bloody _odd_ hearing you joke," she said with a sheepish laugh. Gently, she squeezed his hand. "You should do it more often, really."

"Hmm," Severus replied noncommittally.

"Its pretty late," Anne observed as she barely stifled another yawn, "shoudn't we try to slink on back to the dorms?"

"You can if you really want to," he said. He was looking at her again, his black eyes sending both disturbed and arousing chills down her spine, "but I'm staying here. Peeves is nearly always just down the hall this time of night, and its not worth the trouble."

"Oh," Anne said intelligently.

Severus looked impassively back at her and amused by her awkwardness, turned their held hands over so that hers was facing him. He was not nervous this time, because he was engaged in making Anne even more uncomfortable than she already was, and Severus was greatly enjoying his little power trip.

With one long, delicate finger of his free hand, Severus traced slow patterns on her warm skin. Her hand twitched the tiniest bit as she floundered.

"Oh, then...where are we supposed to...I mean me! Er...I'm going to sleep?"

"Mmhmm?" Severus was busy raising goosebumps on Anne's arm.

With his murmured bass hum, Anne twitched again and fairly squeaked, "Where? I mean...um..." her voice settled to its normal register, "Where are we- that is to say, I! Where am I going to sleep?"

"Oh, I don't know..." he drawled, "right here?"

Anne's eyes widened. She had no idea what to say. Would it be too forward to accept to sleeping on the couch with him? "_Its just sleeping,"_ she argued with herself. _"but what if he tries to...what if YOU try to...!"_

Severus, meanwhile, was feeling rather guilty about toying with her mind in such a manner. Not enough so that he wasn't enjoying the look on her face, but enough to decide that it was time to end the game.

"Yes, I think you'll be most comfortable here," he said, and rose. He gently let go of her hand and watched it fall into her lap, seemingly deboned. "I'm sleeping there," Severus pointed at an easy chair that Anne hadn't noticed a few feet to the right of the couch.

"Oh, all right," Anne replied and nodded as if she'd known that all along.

"Good night, then," Severus nodded back at her, and walked to the chair, where he wrapped his cloak around himself like a blanket.

"Good night."

With mingled feelings of relief and regret, the two settled themselves comfortably for the night. Within minutes, all was silent save for soft noises of breathing.

Moonlight filtered in through the dungeon room's enchanted window and reflected dreamily from the few surfaces it touched. Among them were the two shining black eyes that gazed wonderingly at the sleeping young woman on an otherwise unremarkable old couch.

* * *

A/N Yes, it has been a long time. I apologize! I was dealing with a million and a half things (including writer's block...yuck), but now everything is back to normal and I should be posting regularly. Thanks for reading, and please review!


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